


He Ain't Heavy

by hermione_vader



Category: Thor (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bedroom Sex, Bottom Thor, Dubious Consent, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermione_vader/pseuds/hermione_vader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor falls to Earth again, this time in the early 1960s, and falls in with a certain group of renegade mutants.  Loki's fall still haunts him, and his torturous nightmares catch Magneto's ear as he attempts to heal his own pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Ain't Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written during the summer of 2011, after both films were released, but pre- _Avengers_.

Magneto does not quite know what to make of this man, or god, as he claims to be.  He is a mutant, to be sure—right after Magneto’s little band finds him, he fells a tree with his bare hands out of rage.  Super-strength might not be the most creative power, but Magneto knows it’s useful, so he stays.

A few days after that incident, while they’re squatting in an abandoned and sleeping on stolen mattresses, the man begins to calm.  He wanders from room to room, examining all of them as a small smile plays around the corners of his pretty lips.  He starts to speak—he is called Thor, he explains, Prince of Asgard (heir to the throne, no less).  He talks of back ways, secret passages, and a Rainbow Bridge to anyone who will listen.  Angel rolls her eyes.  Riptide blinks and wanders away.  Mystique sits and listens, most likely out of boredom and a chance to gaze at Thor’ sculpted body (though everyone takes a peek).  Emma glares at him as though as he’s a jigsaw puzzle with too many pieces—she has tried to read his mind, she says, but there’s nothing behind the stories, the mythical façade.  This newest discovery must be stuck in some powerful fugue state, Magneto decides.  This is one of the times that he longs for Xavier’s company—Emma is too cold, too caustic, but Xavier could have slowly, gently manipulated the excruciating truth out of this hulking lion of a “god”.

It’s only at night that he’s sure the mask slips, and the man comes through.  He has awakened more than once to frightened moans of “Loki, Loki, don’t…NO!”, at which point everyone wakes up and Magneto locks that door.  But a few times, on sleepless nights, only he hears Thor’s moans and mumbles, and he’ll sit on the cold, wooden floor beside the mattress and wait until Thor’s large form quiets again.  Every time he tries to reach out, something within springs up and makes his hand recoil.

*

On one of these obnoxiously endless nights, Erik paces the halls, missing Charles.  Every time he lies down, his body aches and he can only hear Charles’ voice echoing in his mind: “rage and serenity.”  Erik leans against the wall and glares at the hideous yellow wallpaper on the opposite side.  He runs his right hand quickly up and down his thigh while clutching a certain small tube in his left and breathes deeply when he hears a new sort of moan from Thor’s room.

“Loki…” Erik hears as he quietly twists the door handle.  Thor’s voice is so husky that Erik’s spine rattles.

“Loki…” Thor repeats.  There’s no fear in his voice tonight; Erik can see that the dim silhouette of Thor’s body doesn’t toss all over the mattress, but rolls smoothly onto his right side, his left arm gliding up and down his bare abdomen before settling down below, just beneath the sheets.  Erik sits down beside the mattress, reaches out (without an inner snap), and his right hand brushes Thor’s ridiculously large bicep.  Thor leans into the touch.

“Brother, I’ll do it for you,” Thor says in low, raw voice that makes Erik’s cock start to throb.  “Like always.”

Erik’s breath hitches.  A better man would leave now.  Even Charles would, though not before exploring the other man’s mind.  Instead, he presses his thumb into Thor’s shoulder and rubs it in small circles, enjoying the muscle’s happy resistance.

“Loki, please…” Thor groans.

“Of course,” Erik whispers.  He sets the little tube down and wraps his left hand around Thor’s now-stiff cock.  He squeezes.  Thor grunts sharply.  “Is that what you wanted?”

“Not enough...need all of you…”

“You want me to ride you?”  Erik asks as he slides his hand up and down that long, thick cock.

“No.  The other way, brother.  The other way,” Thor nearly pleads.

Erik chuckles.  Maybe it's the other man’s sheer size, but imagining Thor on bottom is like watching an elephant ride a pony.  Even so, he slips off his shirt and sweatpants and runs both hands through that thick, blond hair.  “Fast or slow, brother?”

“Make this last.  Please.”  Thor flips onto his back, and even in the darkness, Erik can see his inviting pose.

“Alright then.”  Erik lowers himself over Thor and grazes his lips over that rippled abdomen, flicking his tongue over the peak of each sinewy arch.  Then he moves up to lick and suck Thor’s right nipple, nuzzling his nose against the other man’s chest; he kisses it right when he feels those enormous hands grab his ass and rise roughly up his back.

“Have you shifted forms, Loki?”  Thor abruptly as he caresses Erik’s back.

Erik raises his head and pauses.  He remembers that from the myths he read as a boy, right before such books became forbidden.

“Perhaps I have.”

“You needn’t do that with me, brother,” Thor murmurs.  Erik feels his stomach begin to twist.

“Why not?  Keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?”  Erik almost prays that he buys it.

Thor laughs a little too loudly.  “I suppose you’re right.  At least you’re not a horse.”

“Maybe next time.”  Erik sucks at his nipple again and rubs his knee against Thor’s cock while his own neglected cock aches.

“Loki.  Inside,” Thor growls.  “Save your womanish love for later.”

“I thought you wanted it slow.”

“Not that part.”

Erik sighs as he hopes Loki would.  “Someone’s picky tonight.”

Thor turns onto his left side.  “I imagine you remember how to do this.”

“Absolutely.”  Erik picks up the small tube and squeezes some of that familiar gel onto his hand as soon as he slides under the sheets next to Thor.  He works one finger, then two, scissoring back and forth until Thor reaches back and clenches his hand around Erik’s wrist.

“Never mind fingers.  I want…”  He lets out a ragged breath.

“I understand, Thor.  I do.”  Erik kisses his shoulder.  He works his cock into Thor’s ass and thrusts up slowly.  Thor grunts shortly.  Erik waits a few seconds before he thrusts again, going a bit deeper this time.  They rock against each other three times before they find a comfortable rhythm.  Between the first few thrusts, Erik strokes Thor’s right thigh before taking up his cock again.  He feels his face grow hot against Thor’s shoulder as he alternates squeeze thrust, squeeze thrust.

In some ways, he misses the mind link he shared with Charles—they could find a good rhythm almost effortlessly and he always knew what would bring the most pleasure.  With Thor, it was a guessing game, one he was afraid of losing, lest he be found out.  Yet he never had this physicality with Charles—he never really felt the rhythm or the hardness or even the shape of the other man’s frame because the link made the world fall away.  It was intimate, yes, but they might as well have been fucking in a projection.

No, this—this is real.  He feels every inch of Thor’s body in front of him, the sheets twisting around them, the air hanging expectantly above their heads.  As Erik soaks all of this in, he thrusts twice more, give one last squeeze, and feels a warm stream coat his hand while Thor moans into the bedroom’s blackness.

Erik holds his own cock to finish himself off when a larger hand snakes around it.

“That’s my job, Loki,” Thor says in that deep rumble as he turns around and begins to stroke.  That sound only puts Erik closer, and after a few moments, he feels himself come onto the sheets and Thor’s rock-hard abdomen.  Suddenly, their panting rings throughout the room and Thor pulls Erik into his giant arms.

“Thank you, brother,” he whispers, and they kiss.  Erik has imagined this, usually on nights like this one, and Thor does not disappoint.  He glides his tongue against Erik’s teeth before both twist together.  Then Thor pulls away gently.  “You know I lo—“  Erik kisses him before he can finish.  He cups Thor’s face in his hands, brushing his fingers against that blond beard, and he feels a certain dampness.  Erik blinks.  He’s never made a man cry without the mind link.

“Why the tears, Thor?”

“I’m sorry.”  Thor crushes Erik against his chest.  “I’m sorry.  You’re dead.  I am lost.  I should never have—“

“No.”  Erik swears he won’t—they’re welling up, but he fights them.  “It’s my fault.  Do you hear me?  All my fault.”

Thor puts a hand to Erik’s cheek.  “You would cry for me, brother?”

Erik just kisses him again.

“Stay with me, Loki.  Here, in this dream.”

“Of course.”

They lie there, tangled up in silence, before they do it all again two more times and Erik slips out the door at dawn while Thor sleeps undisturbed.

*

The next morning, everyone eats breakfast under Magneto’s watchful eye.  He never eats with them, always before.  He’d rather be free to dispel any arguments (especially when Emma is around).  Today, they’re mostly quiet.  At a few moments, he has to remind himself to breathe.  Every time Angel or Mystique glances at him, he swears they know.  Maybe.  Emma’s pursed lips betray nothing, even if she has seen.  And what did Thor think?  Was it just a far-off, half-forgotten dream?

After breakfast, Mystique grabs his hand and squeezes it.  “What’s wrong?”  Her golden eyes worry for him.

“Nothing.  You needn't ever fuss over me.”  He kisses her blue forehead, strokes her red hair, and then sends her away with a weak smile.

After she leaves, Thor walks over to him.

“Any nightmares, Thor?”  Magneto asks casually.

“No, not at all.  I finally had a good dream,” Thor says with an eager grin.

“Really?”  Magneto tries not to sound too interested.

“I dreamt my brother visited me.”

Magneto smiled at him.  “That sounds like a possible step forward.”

“Yes, I think it is.  He chose a pleasing disguise, and we comforted each other.”  Thor leans in closer, kisses Magneto roughly, and whispers, “Next time, I’ll ravish him into the mattress.”

Then he turns around and strides out the door, leaving Magneto to lean on the counter and regain his balance.


End file.
